Miles Away
by stygge-ulven
Summary: "I am more and more convinced that our happiness or our unhappiness depends far more on the way we meet the events of life than on the nature of those events themselves." Wilhelm Von Humboldt. This is the sequel to Elastic Heart. Altair/OC.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Jesus Christ, this took forever to write and upload. I'm hoping this doesn't suck and I'll get back into the swing of writing Altair and Keira. Thank you to everyone who stuck with this even after I stopped updating!**

Chapter 1

 **One year later.**

I walked down the street, weaving in between the other humans making their way to work. Every day was just another mundane activity for me, but now I was on my way to a publisher's company, hoping they would publish my book.

It was a long shot, but I had to at least try. It was better than wasting away at my waitressing job to wonder what could have been.

I stood at the entrance of the building, staring at the glass doors for a minute before smoothing my dress and placing a hand on the handle.

Something white flashed in the corner of my eye and I turned, gazing at it.

The whole world stopped and my breath caught in my throat. I couldn't believe what was in front of my eyes.

Altaïr was standing in the middle of the sidewalk, wearing modern clothes, and looking up at the buildings before his golden eyes met mine.

My hand slipped off of the handle and I turned to fully face him. This had to be a dream and I would wake up in my bed back at the house.

He took a step forward and the spell broke. The world continued and my breath escaped as I walked toward him, trying not to run. We met halfway and I touched his chest, making sure he was real.

"Altaïr." I breathed his name.

He put his arms around me and squeezed me tight. A few tears escaped from my eyes as memories of what happened last year flashed vividly behind my eyelids.

"I thought I wouldn't see you ever again," he spoke quietly into my ear.

I pulled back to stare at his perfect face. "How are you here?"

"Eclipse found a way." He smiled.

My mouth stretched into a smile and I bit my lip. "Come on," I pulled his hand, "let's go catch up."

We walked down the streets together, our fingers entwined; the book I wanted to publish was long forgotten in my bag. We spoke about what had changed since I had been sent to the present. He spoke about taking over for Al Mualim, but that a few Assassins were unhappy with this change.

I frowned. "But they realize that Al Mualim was evil, right?"

He shrugged. "I cannot presume to know what they are thinking or what they know. Al Mualim was very persuasive and corruptive. Who knows what they think about him?"

"Still." I sighed.

I hailed a taxi and told him the address of my grandmother's house. I had moved out of the apartment my parents shared when they had gotten divorced. David and Chase were off doing their own tour of the U.S and left me to fend for myself.

Luckily, Grandma Joel had taken me in, knowing that her son- my father- was off his rockers. She didn't want to believe that he had turned into a monster, but she was quick to understand the living situation I was in.

When we got to the house, I paid the taxi driver and grabbed Altaïr's arm, pulling him toward the cute little house. No car was in the driveway so I knew that Grandma Joel was not home, probably off to play cribbage with her friends.

I opened the front door and greeted the sight in front of me. My kitten, Claude, was sitting on the couch, waiting for me to get home. When he saw me, he meowed and jumped off the couch, running over towards me.

"Hello, Claude," I cooed to my baby. "How were you?"

"I do not believe the cat can speak back," Altaïr spoke with a slight chuckle in his voice.

Claude, curious of the man standing next to me, approached Altaïr cautiously. Claude was soon deciding that Altaïr was alright, and quickly ran to the kitchen so he could eat.

I shut the door behind us and sat down on the couch, pulling Altaïr with me. We sat there, speaking about whatever came to mind, catching up on more things that we would not speak about in front of other people.

Day turned to night and I pet Claude while he slept on my lap. Altaïr and I watched the movie playing on the television in front of us when the door opened.

Grandma Joel stepped inside, smiling. "Hello, dear. Who's this?" She looked Altaïr up and down.

"Grandma, this is Altaïr." I played with the ends of my hair.

I had told her about him- not saying anything about him being from the past or anything like that- and she had turned into a little fangirl, never once allowing me to forget that he had kissed me.

"Oh, Altaïr. I have heard much about you." She winked 'subtly' at me and smiled widely at the man sitting next to me.

"Altaïr, this is Grandma Joel." I avoided her intense gaze.

"It is nice to meet you, ma'am." He greeted her.

She sat down next to us and proceeded to demand answers. When he got here, where was he from, how come I didn't tell her he was coming over, those kinds of things. In the end, when her nose was finished being in my business, she smiled.

"You passed my test, kiddo. You can stay the night and catch up with my granddaughter here." Grandma Joel smiled.

"Thank you, Grandma. I'll go set up the guest bedroom for you, Altaïr." I stood up.

"There ain't no guest bedroom anymore. While you were gone, I got it turned into an office. Guess he'll just have to stay with you." Grandma Joel nearly giggled these words.

I forced my face into a neutral expression and nodded, internally screaming at her because I knew that it wasn't true. "Fine. Altaïr, you can follow me."

He stood up and we walked down the hallway until we got to a wooden door with several kid drawings plastered on them from when I used to visit Grandma Joel every other Sunday. I opened the door to reveal my bedroom.

The lilac colored sheets were slightly disheveled from Claude always messing up my bed whenever I was gone; the small lamp on the nightstand was illuminating the room, casting shadows on the black carpet.

"This is my room," I announced, gesturing to the piles of books on the bookshelves and the small walk-in closet with all the clothes on the ground. A few articles of clothing were on the floor by my bed, but I wasn't embarrassed.

I shut the door behind us and sat on my bed. "You can sleep up here with me because there is no way in hell that I will let you sleep on the floor."

He looked down at the ground and then back up at me, nodding.

He slipped into the bed next to me and we fell into our old routine. He stayed still as I placed my back against his chest, but eventually he threw his arm around my waist.

With this being so familiar, my mind went wild on having me remember every little thing that happened last year. Every touch he gave me sending lightning through my veins (this hasn't changed), every look he gave me sending shivers down my spine. It was so familiar and it felt like I was home.

All that was annoying me was the memory of the kiss. So far, we hadn't brought it up, but I knew that we couldn't avoid it forever. I was dying to know if that meant he liked me too, but I know that he needs time to adjust to the different years and all the modern, or in his case- futuristic, things that were sure to be strange to him.

But I would wait, because I had waited a whole year to see him again.

"I missed you," I whispered after a little while, not sure if he was sleeping or not.

"I missed you too."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The sharp pains of a knife slid between my ribs and through my skin, tearing and ripping as blood leaked out. It was warm as it trickled down my skin and past my lips.

I couldn't scream, only let out a small whimper. The pain blanketed my entire being, feeling as though there were a thousand knives stabbing me over and over again and again. I was crying but the tears felt different. They were thicker.

I reached up and touched it. When I pulled my hand away, I found it stained red and completely covered in blood. I wanted to scream but blood ran from my nose, ears, and mouth. I leaned forward and spat out some blood but it just seemed to keep coming.

I couldn't move, stuck in a standing position. Fingers tickled my arms and pulled my hair, bringing me closer to whoever was behind me. The stench emanating from his breath was so familiar and I would have cried if I wasn't already crying blood.

"Keira," he whispered my name.

I woke up screaming, fighting against someone holding me down. Al Mualim was still saying my name over and over again, but this time it sounded different. It sounded hysterical and filled with concern.

His hand covered my mouth and I felt a weight on top of my body. I panicked and struggled to get out of whatever hold I was in, but I wasn't thinking clearly.

"Keira, please! Calm yourself!" Altaïr's voice washed over my fears and I slowly stopped struggling.

He removed his hand from my mouth but made no move to get off of me.

"Is she okay?" Grandma Joel asked.

"I believe so." Altaïr nodded. "You should get back to sleep, she might be up for a while."

Grandma Joel nodded and left, leaving just me and Altaïr.

"Are you okay, Keira?" Altaïr whispered, gazing shamelessly at me.

I hesitated to nod because this was the first nightmare I had in a few months and it was more vivid than all the other ones I had had.

"What happened?" He asked.

"Altaïr, it was bad." I closed my eyes but quickly opened them. "I'm scared to go back to sleep."

"You don't have to, just talk. Maybe you'll feel better?"

"Okay." I whispered and suddenly became fully aware that he was pressed up against me, holding my hands over my head and my face so close to his.

He seemed to realize this and got off of me, sitting up on the bed and waited as I did the same, feeling a loss of warmth.

"It was about. . . that day." He seemed to know which day I was talking about because he looked away for a split second before nodding. "I could feel the knife as if it was happening all over again. I know that it's just my mind playing with me, but I thought that it was really happening all over again."

"I'm sorry you have to remember that so vividly. Joel was telling me earlier how you would have nightmares for two weeks and wouldn't go back to sleep afterwards."

Of course Grandma Joel had told him that. When she found the time to was lost on me, but she always finds time to do things.

"Do you want to try going back to sleep?" He asked.

I shook my head. "No, at least not right now. I'm going to go for a walk to calm down." I looked at the clock. "You're welcome to stay and sleep. I'm sorry I woke you up."

"Don't apologize for something you can't help," he spoke clearly enough for me to understand what he was saying.

I nodded and stood up. He followed me as I walked into the living room, grabbing a jacket for both him and myself and sliding shoes on. We exited the house and walked along the sidewalk.

I found myself thinking with each step I took. I realized a few minutes later that Altaïr wasn't trying to get me to talk, but let me walk in silence. It was nice.

"You kissed me."

I wanted so much to say those words, to find out why he had kissed me but was now acting like it never happened, but I couldn't find the courage. Instead, I was stuck in my own mind, reliving a horror over and over again.

"Do you ever have nightmares about that day?" I asked, realizing that it shouldn't just be about me. He could be in pain too and I would never know it.

He was silent for a minute before nodding slowly.

"Do you still have them?" I questioned, desperate for answers.

Again, he was silent for a minute. "Not as vivid as they used to be, but I still have them. They do not come as often either."

I nodded. "That's what happened to me but now look at me.

"It was bound to happen since I came back." He shrugged. "I'm a piece of that, a reason why that happened. I'm the reason why these nightmares plague you."

I stopped walking. "Altaïr."

"No, Keira, listen to me," he interrupted me and turned to face me. "If I had been with you or even if I had made sure he was dead, you never would have been hurt. You would have been-." He stopped himself.

I knew what he was going to say, however. I would have been with him. It would not have been a year until we saw each other.

"You can't dwell in the past like that, Altaïr, it's not healthy. All that matters is that I'm still here, and I'm alright." I grabbed his hand. "It won't happen again, he's gone for good."

He was looking down at our joined hands and he squeezed my hand before meeting my eyes. "I know." He nodded with conviction.

I leaned forward a little before stepping back. "Come on, I'm ready to go to sleep."

We made our way back to the house and slept the rest of the night.

Two days had passed and Altaïr being here still seemed unreal. Every morning I would get up and role over to open my eyes, just to make sure that he was still there. Of course, it was silly of me, and he was there every morning.

Now, I found myself in the kitchen dancing along to Queen while baking cookies. Grandma Joel had left the house to play poker with her elderly friends, leaving just me and Altaïr.

She always seemed to be running off more often than not, and I strongly believed that it was because of Altaïr. She would always pass me a side look and wink at me whenever he wasn't looking or paying attention.

Altaïr was standing in the bedroom, getting ready for the day. I had told him that we were going on a drive to the woods to do some hiking. He hadn't seemed all that enthusiastic about it, but it would give me a chance to get back in shape, and I always enjoyed the pretty sights. Besides that, it would give us a chance to talk about what happened when I died.

When Bohemian Rhapsody came to an end, I grabbed the cookies from the oven and placed them on the cooling rack. The smell of chocolate chip cookies enveloped my senses and I sighed, content with how things in my life had turned out

I heard the bedroom door open and Altaïr walked out into the kitchen. He looked good in his hiking clothes- no hood to hide his face from me.

"Are you ready to go?" I asked, sliding the backpack onto my back.

He nodded.

I smiled. "Alright, let's go."

"How are you holding up?" I asked over my shoulder, climbing up a particularly steep pathway.

"This is something I know, something I'm used to. There is no need to worry about me," Altaïr spoke over my loud panting.

Man was I out of shape. There was no fatigue in his voice and I was envious.

When we finally reached the top of the hill, we found a small bench and sat down. I used my inhaler before I opened my water bottle and nearly drained the whole thing in one go.

"So," I trailed off for a minute before finding my voice, "I have to talk to you."

His eyebrow quirked. "About what?"

I stared at him. "You kissed me."

There. The words were out. I should feel better now that I got that out of the way, but instead I just found myself just feeling more awkward.

He seemed surprised that those words came out of my mouth but quickly schooled his face. "I did."

"Why?"

"I thought that I was going to die. I was worried we weren't going to make it out, which was technically true."

I froze. "That's why you kissed me?"

He nodded. "Yes."

I couldn't believe how stupid I had been. All the reasons I had given myself was that he had fallen in love with me or some dumb shit like that. I couldn't believe I had thought that, I should have expected that his reason was the real reason.

I shouldn't care.

Then why did it feel like I couldn't catch my breath?

"That's what I thought." I pushed out and stood up. I placed a smile on my face and cocked my head at him. "Want to race back?"

He stood up and laughed.

With every step I took, his words replayed in my head and my heart started hurting.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Hello everyone! As college comes closer and closer, I will try to update before it's here. Thanks to everyone who followed and favorited this story! It means so much to me! I hope you enjoy this chapter!**

Chapter 3

Okay, this was bad.

I mean, it wasn't as bad as it could be, or should have been, but it was still bad. On a scale from 1-10, it would probably be a seven.

It started out as a regular Saturday- well, as regular as it could be. Ever since that hike with Altaïr, I had essentially been avoiding him as best I could. I would sit on the couch and mope over what could have been and what my mind had played on me.

So that's where I had been when the incident occurred.

There was a knock on the door and I couldn't find the energy within myself to get off the couch and open the door. It could have been anyone, anyone like my Grandma's suitor.

"Keira, aren't you going to get that?" Grandma Joel asked after the knocking turned into pounding.

I shrugged. "I don't know who it is."

"Well," she tutted and strutted over to the door, "you have to open the door to see who it is."

As she said this, she opened the door. The smile that graced her face dropped as she saw who the visitor was.

"Alan," Grandma Joel visibly deflated at the unexpected visit.

I shot up from the couch and slowly inched my way towards the kitchen. My heart sped in my chest and my breath came in short bursts. I never took my eye off the door where my Grandma was standing, trying to keep me concealed.

"I know she's here." He was drunk. That much was evident in his speech. "I want to see her. You can't keep me from seeing my daughter!"

Something smashed on the house and I let out a whimper, dropping to the floor. I placed my hands over my face and rocked back and forth, hoping he would leave.

"Keira? Keira I know you can hear me! Come on out! _Daddy_ wants to see you!" He shouted.

"Alan, you are not welcome here. Leave before I call the police," Grandma Joel warned.

Altaïr stepped out into the living room and saw me curled up on the floor. He quickly made his way toward me and knelt down, placing his hand on my back.

"What's going on?" He asked.

I covered his mouth with my hand and shook my head.

"YOU CAN'T KEEP HER AWAY FOREVER! SHE IS MY DAUGHTER!" My father roared, smashing his fist on the side of the house.

"Alan! Enough!" Grandma Joel yelled over his swearing. "Get out of here! You can't see her because she doesn't want to see you! Not ever again!"

"I will be back," he hissed. "DO YOU HEAR ME, KEIRA? I'LL BE BACK FOR YOU!"

Grandma Joel slammed the door shut and quickly walked over to me. "He's gone now, dear."

"Why is he back, after all this time?" I whispered. "Why can't he just leave me alone?"

"Because he's a disease. I regret never spending time with him, but when your Grandpa George and I got a divorce, Alan was always at George's house. I never thought about it, but I'm sure it was his fault." Grandma Joel rubbed my arm. "He never gave me a chance to be a mother."

With everyone crowding around me and touching me, even if they meant to do it comfortingly, it was sickening to me. I felt like throwing up.

"I have to get out of here." I stood up quickly and ran out of the room, and out of the house via the back door.

I didn't look back but I could hear them shouting after me. I couldn't make out their words but something told me that it was about how it was dark out and dangerous.

I ran blindly for a little while but I could feel my asthma catching up to me, closing up my throat.

I stopped at the side of some shady building and leaned against the wall, using my inhaler. Once my breath returned to normal, I looked around.

In my haste to get away, I never realized where I was going. And now that I had calmed down somewhat, I could tell that I was in a bad neighborhood. One that had me lost. I had no clue where I had come from.

Okay, this was bad.

I mean, it wasn't as bad as it could be, or should have been, but it was still bad. On a scale from 1-10, it would probably be a seven.

I placed the inhaler in my pocket and got off the wall, looking in all of the possible directions I could have come from.

"Eenie-meenie-miney-moe." I pointed at all the possible places to go. "I choose you."

My finger stopped on a dark alleyway.

"Of-fucking-course." I shook my head but headed in that direction. I was listening to my gut, and it was telling me to go over here.

Who am I kidding? Intestines don't speak.

I inched my way into the alleyway and practically held my breath as I let my eyes adjust to the darkness. I could make out vague shapes of dumpsters and trashcans. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary so I continued, ignoring my beating heart.

I was halfway through when I heard a scuffle.

I whipped around to face the threat but there was nothing there.

"Hello? Anybody there?" I called out but there was no answer.

"Smart move, Keira, call out to the murderer. I'm sure he'd give up just because you suspect he's there." I shook my head and continued down the dark alleyway.

I got to the end but it was blocked by a fence.

On the other side of this fence was my Grandma's neighborhood. I could see her friend Gaea's house.

I reached up and grabbed the chain-link fence, prepared to haul myself over, but somebody grabbed my waist and pushed me up against it, forcing me to keep my eyes away from their face.

"You came into the wrong neighborhood, woman." The man's breath tickled my ear and I shuddered. "Give me all of your money and I just might let you go."

"I don't have any money," I hissed. "Let me go, you creep!"

"Now is that any way to talk to the man holding you hostage?"

Something gleamed in the dim lighting and I recognized it as a knife. He pressed it against my ribs, just underneath where Al Mualim had stabbed me.

"Empty your pockets, babe." The man let go of me but didn't drop the knife.

I faked reaching for my pockets but quickly grabbed his wrist and broke it, letting the knife drop to the ground. I kicked it away before he could grab it and kneed him in the stomach.

He let out a breathy groan and I elbowed him in the nose before pushing him to the ground.

"I am _not_ your 'babe.'"

"But you could be mine."

I looked up and came face to face with another man with a knife.

"Or mine."

"Or even mine."

I should have known that there would be more than one.

"Let me go and I won't report you to the police." I backed up slowly towards the knife the other man had dropped.

"Now we can't let that happen, sweetheart." The man in the middle spoke with a gruff voice. It sounded as if he would have a beard like a lumberjack.

There was a split second before I grabbed the knife when I could tell that they were going to pounce. One arm came straight for my face and I ducked and rolled away, grabbing the knife on the ground as I did.

I popped back up, knife in hand, and faced the three attackers. Normally, this wouldn't have been a problem for me, but when you can't see them, are out of shape, and have asthma, it's not really a fight I can win. Not when they attack me all at the same time.

They came at me as if they were one person, moving in synchronization and fluidity. They were not merely street thugs, not by the way they were fighting.

I ducked under their arms and jabbed with my knife, hoping to hit someone. What I succeeded in was getting the knife taken away from me.

One of them slipped up and went for a right hook, holding the knife out instead of against his arm. I grabbed his arm and knocked the knife from it, kicking one of the men in the gut, and breaking the first man's arm.

He cried out in pain before I kicked him in the temple, knocking him out.

A fist connected with my face and I fell to the ground. Pain exploded on my jaw and forehead as it came in contact with the cement.

I rolled away from the men and stood back up quickly, guarding my face as carefully as I could.

The first man who attempted to rob me stood up, holding his broken wrist.

"You will pay for this, bitch!" He spat on the ground as if that would make him look tougher or something.

"Why don't you pick on someone your own size?"

Altaïr quickly took down one man with a chokehold and while the others were distracted, I punched the man with the broken wrist.

The pain in my hand felt good as I watched him stumble back and face me. He let out a war cry and ran towards me, his good hand raised above his head.

I ducked and kicked my leg out, tripping him. He went sailing into one of the dumpsters. The force with which he hit the lid sent it down, trapping him inside.

I turned to face Altaïr and saw him coming closer to me. He grabbed my face and back me up against the chain-link fence.

He leaned in close, our noses almost touching.

"Keira." He nearly whispered.

"Yeah?"

"You should put ice on your cheek and forehead. They're already bruising," he said and spun around walking towards the alleyway entrance.

I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding and closed my eyes for a second. I opened them and hopped over the unconscious bodies of my attackers before catching up to my Assassin.

"Don't run away again, okay?" He looked at me.

I nodded. "I'll only run away if my life depends on it."


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Hey everyone, sorry for not updating in a while! College is such a nipple-twister, it consumes so much time and it's just so painful. God, but at least I got back in the writing groove. I want to thank everyone who's stuck with this story, and I foresee updates coming along! I edited this chapter because I feel things escalated too quickly. I also changed the rating to "M" because I feel things will escalate in different ways, but who knows :/ I hope you enjoy this updated version!**

Chapter 4

Over the next few days, any time there would be a knock on the door Grandma Joel would answer it, just in case it was my father. It never was, but I could hear his promise echo in my head. He would come back for me.

I came home one afternoon from grocery shopping and placed the grocery bags on the kitchen counter.

"Grandma? Altaïr? Are you home?" I called out but received no answer.

I frowned but continued putting away the groceries. Perhaps Grandma Joel had taken Altaïr to one of her outings with her friends.

"Claude, baby, where are you?" I clicked my tongue, seeking out my fluffy cat.

I searched in the living room for him, where he usually dwelled, and slowly made my way to my bedroom, calling out his name.

The door, half open, had me stop from opening it.

"Claude?" I swallowed my rising fears and opened the door.

I gasped and turned away, covering my mouth.

Claude- what was left of Claude- had been strewn all over my room. His limp, bloody and broken body had been laid on my bed carefully. Blood stained my carpet, walls, and blanket.

I rushed to the bathroom and threw up.

My father had done this. There was no doubt about it. He had come back and broken in, and this was just a statement. Next time, who knows what or _who_ it would be?

I searched through my jacket pocket and fished out my cellphone. Without even looking, I dialed Grandma Joel's number.

 _"Keira! Dear, don't worry about where Altaïr or I are. We just went out with Gaea to show him around."_

"Grandma."

She stopped talking, hearing the fear in my voice. _"What happened? Is he back?"_

"No, Grandma, he's not here, not anymore."

 _"Did he hurt you?"_

"Grandma, it's Claude. He-he's dead. Alan must have broken in and found him." I closed my eyes. "He's in my room."

 _"We're on our way home. Don't hang up, dear, because he might come back."_

The doorbell rang.

My heart pounded in my chest. "Grandma, someone's at the door."

 _"Don't answer it."_

The doorbell rang again followed by some knocking.

"They're not going away." My voice shook.

 _"Keira, do not answer it."_

"Joel, are ya home?" A voice shouted, muffled by the door.

"It's Gus." I told Grandma Joel and rushed to the door, opening it.

"Hiya, Keira. Is Joel here?" Gus, wrinkled and hunched over, leaned against his cane. He smiled wide when I opened the door and didn't seem to notice that I was sweating and shaking from fear.

I held the phone against my chest so that our conversation would be muffled to Grandma Joel. "Hi, Gus. I'm afraid she isn't, she's with Gaea right now. She should be home later, however."

"Okay. Would ya give these to her when she gets home?" He handed me a bouquet of daffodils.

I smiled. "Of course."

"Thank ya. See ya later, dear." He turned around and walked away, cane clicking against the cement sidewalk.

I shut the door quickly and placed the phone against my ear.

 _"Keira?"_

It was Altaïr. "Yeah?" I whispered against the sound of blood roaring in my ears.

 _"Is everything okay?"_

"Everything's fine. For now, at least."

 _"We're almost there, just hold in tight."_

 _I nodded, then remembered that he couldn't see me. "Okay."_

 _I ran to the kitchen, the phone still in my hands, and grabbed a kitchen knife after placing the daffodils on the kitchen counter. I sat on the kitchen floor, facing so that I could see the front door as well as the back door, and waited. My grip was tight on the knife as I waited for anything to come through the door. I was not going to die today, not by my father._

 _A couple of minutes passed and nothing happened. Twenty minutes passed before I could hear the lock on the front door turning and I snapped to attention, keeping the knife close to me._

 _"Keira, we are coming in the front door now, do you understand?"_ _Grandma Joel's voice came out tinny as I remembered the phone._

 _I held the phone up to my ear and muttered a confirmation, and would not attack. However, I did not move until I saw_ Altaïr enter through the door.

As soon as he saw me, he rushed over and knelt in front of me, carefully taking the knife out of my hands. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him close, hugging him so tightly I was afraid that I was choking him, but he only held me closer.

In that moment, I didn't care that I was slightly at odds with him, he was my rock and my solace. He calmed me when nothing else did. He made me feel safe even if we were surrounded by enemies.

I didn't know how exactly he felt about me, but by God did I know how I feel about him. It had been creeping up on me, I'm not sure exactly when it started, but I was completely in love with Altaïr. Not just some silly school-girl crush. This was what those books always talked about, how we fit together like two puzzle pieces.

The realization of this scared me. I loved him.

But he said he didn't love me.

 _Grandma Joel followed_ Altaïr in closely and two police officers followed afterward. Grandma Joel directed them into my bedroom and followed after them when she saw that Altaïr was comforting me, and in that moment it was just me and him.

"Keira, you have to talk to the police. Give them your story." She hated breaking up the moment, but Grandma Joel spoke.

I let go of Altaïr and nodded. He helped me stand up and held onto my hand the whole time that one officer questioned me while the other led in a forensic team to look for prints, take photos, etc. It reminded me of the cop shows my father used to watch on television. He was obsessed with them, and that's how I think he was clever enough not to leave any evidence of him being here behind. The forensic team couldn't even find any prints or anything, and the cops outside questioning the neighbors said that they came up empty for any witnesses.

I was livid. My cat had been murdered and no one could do anything about it because there was no evidence that it had been my father doing this. No evidence, but I knew it to be true.

The police officers had said that they would find my father and question him, and so Grandma Joel had given them the address that he currently resides in with my mother. God, I felt so bad for my mother, but she chose not to leave even though my father has nothing on her.

When Claude's remains were boxed up and handed to Grandma Joel, and blood washed off the walls and evidence collected, I spoke.

"I want to bury him in the backyard," I spoke quietly as I gestured to the box holding the pieces of my cat.

Altaïr nodded. "Okay."

Grandma Joel handed me the box and I exited the back door, clutching the box closely to my chest. While I stood there, staring at the ground, Grandma Joel gave Altaïr a shovel and he dug a small grave, big enough for the box.

When the box had been covered back up, I stood out there, staring at the ground. I couldn't believe my cat was gone. He had been with me for a while, and he had been my constant companion on the nights when I mourned the loss of Altaïr the most. He had been the one to comfort me after my nightmares when Grandma Joel was out of the house. He had been a light in my life.

Grandma Joel and Altaïr stood next to me for a while, the sun setting as it began indicating that it was going to be winter soon. Grandma Joel stood straight, excusing herself as she said she would "fix up your room."

Altaïr stayed with me and held me while I cried.

"He wasn't just a cat," I tried to explain, thinking that I had to explain.

"I know."

Those two words were enough for me to take comfort in. Altaïr was here, and he wouldn't go anywhere.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Thanks to those that reviewed and followed/added this story. Because of you guys, I didn't give up on this story. Although it took me a while, I eventually got over my writer's block and picked up the will to continue with new inspiration. Thank you so much! Make sure you check out the previous chapter, as I had edited that for a different ending.**

Chapter 5

I hadn't fallen asleep that night, not one bit. Even though Altaïr was there with me, I couldn't forget the horror of what was previously lying on my bed. I moved from the bedroom to sit on the couch while Altaïr slept soundly.

Once I was out there, however, I couldn't stop flinching every time a car drove passed or I heard a noise outside. All I could think of was that my father had come back, just as he promised, and he was going to kill me and then Grandma Joel, and then my Assassin while he slept.

I didn't notice when the sun rose, but I noticed when Altaïr walked out of the bedroom, wiping sleep from his eyes as he searched for me. Once he saw me sitting on the couch, he strode over quickly and sat beside me, putting his arms around me and hugging me against his chest.

I smiled a little as I listened to his heartbeat, the heat from his body warmed me. I didn't even notice how cold I was until he enveloped me in his warm embrace.

"Did you get any sleep?" He asked.

"No. Every time I closed my eyes. . . and being in that room just didn't help," I said. "You slept for quite a while though."

He shrugged. "I wish I hadn't. I could have stayed up with you and told you everything would be fine."

I leaned back so I could gaze into his amber eyes. I could feel my heartbeat quickening and I had to remind myself to breath. "I'm glad you got sleep. That's what was important to me."

He shrugged again.

We stared at each other intently, not saying what needed to be said. We had this silent connection between us that neither of us could break, and I felt as though he was seeing all of me for the first time. It was if all my insecurities were laid in front of him, and I felt so vulnerable.

He licked his lips as he glanced down at me biting mine. Then his eyes met with mine and I swear we were leaning closer.

Our noses were touching and my eyes started to close, I was prepared to meet his lips.

"Keira? Keira where are you?"

Altaïr and I flinched away from each other, both of us breathing heavily after what just occurred between us, and what almost occurred.

"I'm out here!" I called to Grandma Joel, clearing my throat and looking down at my hands in my lap as I willed there to be no blush on my face.

Grandma Joel appeared in the doorway and came to sit between me and Altaïr, completely oblivious to what almost occurred.

"I woke up, saw you weren't in your room, and got worried. I was afraid you had run off again." Grandma Joel huffed. "Did you get any sleep?"

I shook my head and she tutted.

"Shame on you, Keira Eleanor Lee." She tsked.

I felt anger boiling in my belly. This was both from lack of sleep and from the way she expected me to sleep easily after seeing what I've seen and the threats made against me.

Before I could retort, however _,_ Altaïr answered calmly.

"She could not fall asleep in the room without knowing what had happened there. And when she came out here, things were not any better," he spoke softly, calming both me and Grandma Joel down.

"I guess. I'll go make breakfast. Are you kids hungry?" Grandma Joel stood, not waiting for an answer as she meandered into the kitchen.

"Starving," I called to her.

"Do banana pancakes sound good?"

"Always."

I turned to look at Altaïr, trying to forget what just happened. It was either my imagination, or I was the one leading the kiss on. "Do banana pancakes sound good to you?"

He smiled. "Of course."

After breakfast, Grandma Joel left- albeit reluctantly- for her "date" with Gus. She had adored the daffodils that he had left here for her, and had immediately called him when I was outside crying with Altaïr. While this wasn't an official date, I called it that and I'm almost certain that Gus called it a date as well.

As soon as she was gone, I sat with Altaïr back on the couch. I could feel fatigue and drowsiness catching up with me, but I was too scared to close my eyes. I laid my head in his lap and turned on the television, looking for anything to keep me awake.

I stopped flipping channels when I found an old episode of Star Trek, one that I had seen multiple times before but still loved. Altaïr didn't say anything about the TV and I didn't expect him to. He learned the hard way that I cannot explain everything in extreme detail- but at least he knows that it's not magic that makes the TV turn on and off.

I turned up the volume and sighed as he played with my hair, running his hands through it. It was so relaxing that I found my eyes closing on their own accord.

Altaïr whispered something to me in Arabic but I was too tired to translate it.

"Habibata," he whispered again. "Are you falling asleep?"

I didn't know what that word meant and now it was bothering me. I would look it up later, perhaps.

When I didn't answer, Altaïr stopped playing with my hair and paused for a minute. When he didn't move, and when I didn't move, he let out a big sigh and leaned over, placing his lips on my temple.

"Sleep well, habibata."

And just like that, I was passed out.

When I woke up, I was laying by myself on the couch, a blanket draped over me. I hadn't dreamed at all when I slept and I feel as though I had gotten the best sleep in my life.

I could hear Altaïr and Grandma Joel talking out on the back porch and I sat up, clutching my head when a wave of dizziness passed over me, causing my vision to go black for a few seconds. When it passed, I stood up, keeping the blanket draped over my shoulders.

I glanced at the clock and found it to be four o'clock in the evening. I was starving, but I could wait until dinner.

I walked over to the back porch and stepped out, shivering in the cool breeze.

"Ah, my darling, you're awake!" Grandma Joel beamed up at me from the porch swing. "I was just talking to Altaïr here about your book that you sent in to the publisher. It's been a while, so I'm not sure what they think of it."

It dawned on me that the book was still in my bag. "Um, Grandma, I never sent it in."

She stopped and gave me a strange look. "What do you mean?"

"I was on my way to drop it off when I ran into Altaïr. We got to talking and then I forgot to send it in."

"Well, you're going to call the place tomorrow and drop it off then, right?"

"I can, sure. That way I can give you," I looked to Altaïr, "a tour of my favorite places in New York City."

Grandma Joel looked pleased. She glanced up at the sky and shivered. "I reckon it will snow soon."

I shrugged. "I don't think just yet, Grandma. I'll give it another month."

Altaïr perked up when he heard "snow." He looked straight at me and I saw a smile playing on his lips. I hadn't forgotten how excited and puzzled he was when I first told him about snow all that while ago. It would be the best thing he could see in his time here.

"Altaïr, can I talk to you?" I questioned.

He nodded and followed me inside. I turned to face him when we got into the kitchen and I saw him nervously playing with the end of his shirt.

"Are you stuck here like I was stuck there?" I asked him.

His head shot up and he reached up, messing with his curly locks. They had gotten long, and his bangs were coming into his eyes. I should cut it.

"I am not. Eclipse visited me last night and told me that I am free to return whenever I wish, I must only speak the word," he answered.

"But if you go back, you can't come back here, right?"

He nodded.

"And I can't return there." I remembered Eclipse telling me that all those years ago. "She hasn't visited me at all since I've gotten back."

"She cannot."

"I figured as much."

We stood quietly in the kitchen for a minute, my mind racing with all the possibilities.

"Are you going to return?" I asked finally.

"I am unsure."

I nodded, remembering how difficult it was for me to decide if I would stay in his time or go back to my time. "I'm sure there's no rush."

Grandma Joel entered through the back door and closed it shut behind her. She let out a loud shiver, voicing how cold she was, and moved to the stove where Altaïr stood.

"I'll just get started on dinner then." She moved about the kitchen, grabbing pans and going through the fridge.

"Please, Grandma, allow me." I offered. "I haven't cooked anything in a while and I feel like it would help calm me down."

In reality, I just wanted something monotonous to focus on, and cooking would help me do that. I didn't want to think about what Altaïr would choose: if he would stay or if he would go. With what happened this morning, where we almost kissed each other, I would think that he would stay.

But then I think about how homesick I was when I was in his time and I am positive he is feeling the same way. I see it when he looks at the stove or the fridge or anything. He gets this look of. . . misplacement. I think he knows he doesn't belong here, and I believe he thinks he could never belong here.

But I could never return with him, as much as I want to.

"Okay. Do you know what you want to make?" Grandma Joel asked.

I shrugged. "It will be a surprise. Now, out of the kitchen! Both of you!"

Grandma Joel laughed and waddled out of the kitchen and into the living room, calling to Altaïr behind her. "Come on, kiddo, she means business!"

I turned and looked at Altaïr, who smiled at me. I couldn't tell what he was thinking, but I had never seen him smile at me like that.

"What?" I asked, unable to help the shy smile from gracing my face.

"Nothing." He looked away. "I'll leave you to your cooking."

He exited the kitchen as I began preparing the meal. I could hear Grandma Joel talking to Altaïr in the living room.

"She hasn't cooked a day since her father nearly killed her, just before she moved in with me. It used to be her favorite thing to do," she spoke softly as if hoping I couldn't hear.

"Why not?" Altaïr asked.

Grandma Joel answered. "Because picking up the knives and pans reminded her of what happened."

Altaïr was silent as he processed the information.

I hadn't forgotten that day, when my father came into the kitchen while I cooked. He had been drugged up and drunk off his ass. He leered at me-his own fucking daughter. He looked at me as if I had been a piece of meat served to him on some fancy china.

He had reached for me but I slapped his hand away. This angered him very quickly and he had thrown hot oil at me, burning holes through my shirt. Then he smacked me in the leg with the hot frying pan. To this day, I still have that burn mark.

When I knocked the frying pan out of his hands, he grabbed the kitchen knife I had been using to chop up ingredients and began jabbing at me. I had been avoiding for a while but then he tripped me up, and the knife had plunged into me again and again.

Of course, when I went to the hospital from blood loss because he couldn't patch me up at home and keep this quiet, the authorities talked to him. He was never arrested because he paid off the cops to look the other way.

I carefully picked up the kitchen knife and sliced into the garlic as a frying pan with oil heated up on the stove. It reminded me of that day, but I knew better. I knew I was safe.

He couldn't hurt me. Not in this moment.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Thanks for the patience with this chapter! For some reason, my internet wouldn't let me upload things :/ oh well. Here's the next chapter, in which I am unsatisfied with it.**

Chapter 6

"Come on, Altaïr, it's time to wake up." I shook his sleeping form.

He moaned and sat up, brushing his hair out of his eyes and then rubbed his eyes. He blinked lazily up at me and frowned. "What time is it?" He asked.

"It's noon. Lunch time," I answered.

"I slept for quite a while."

I nodded.

"Eclipse visited me. I guess we talked for the whole time."

"What did you talk about?"

He was silent. "Um, nothing important really."

I frowned. "It has to be if you talked for a long time."

"Well it wasn't the whole time. I dreamed after."

I raised an eyebrow. Did I see him blush? "Okay. I'm going to be leaving after lunch, did you want to come with me?"

He nodded, clearing his throat. "What's for lunch?"

"Grandma Joel is gone so we can have anything. If you wanted, we could even go out to eat."

"It does not matter to me."

I shrugged. "Let's go out."

He nodded and stood up. My eyes widened when I saw him shirtless and I was reminded of the first time I had seen him shirtless. He had more scars now.

"I-I can also cut your hair. Now." I shook my head to clear my thoughts.

He nodded. "I would appreciate that."

I smiled and left the room quickly. I had to force myself to walk away and not run my fingers along his abs and scars.

Things between us had gotten so difficult in our time apart. Things seemed so clear back in his time but now it's hazy.

I stood in the kitchen biting my lip.

I heard him walking into the kitchen and so I focused, bringing my thoughts back to the present.

He was still shirtless goddamn it.

I picked up the scissors and pulled over a stool for him to sit on.

When he sat down, I pulled over a trash can and began to cut his brown curly locks. They fell away from his head and I threw what kind I could catch into the trash. When I was finished cutting the back, I moved to the front and leaned forward in order to see where I could cut.

Altaïr cleared his throat and turned his head away.

"Keep your head straight." I placed my hands on either side of his face and turned him to face me. "That way I can cut your hair evenly."

"Keira."

I hummed in acknowledgement.

"Stand up."

I knitted my eyebrows but did as he asked. "What's wrong?"

"I. . . nevermind."

I rolled my eyes and leaned forward to finish the bangs. Once he was done, I stood up.

"Let's eat out. I haven't gone out for a while, and that way we can see some cool things while dropping off my book," I declared.

I turned and watched him putting a shirt on. While he finished that task, I began tying my shoes. When I looked down, I understood then why Altaïr didn't want me to lean over.

I hadn't been wearing a bra because I thought putting a jacket on would help, but for now my tank top barely covered my breasts.

My face flushed red at the thought of him staring at me when I remembered the bath when he has first seen me naked. It has been a while ago (or a long time ago) and yet I remember it vividly.

"I am ready," Altaïr announced.

I scrutinized his appearance. "You might want a jacket, it's getting pretty cold."

He frowned. "Where?"

I grabbed his wrist and pulled him to the closet. Once opened, I noticed a box on the shelf above the coats and frowned. It looked familiar and yet I couldn't recall where I had seen it before.

I ignored it and grabbed him a jacket, handing it to him.

"Alright," I smiled, "let's go."

He followed me out the door. When I continued down the sidewalk, I felt a tug on my jeans. I turned my head and saw Altaïr holding to my belt loop, his eyes constantly scanning around.

I smiled a bit to myself, glad I could be there for him. He was a small person in a big world.

I led him down the sidewalk as we walked closer to the metal trees that were the skyscrapers.

"Why do they need to be so tall?" Altaïr gestures to the skyscraper closest to us.

"Overcompensation."

"What?"

"It's because they have a lot of people on each floor. They're for businesses."

"Oh."

We continued until we got to a local diner. I had gone here once before for Grandma Joel's birthday but hadn't returned. God, that had been so long ago. I was eight then.

We were seated quickly and our food brought to us a little later. The diner was nearly empty except for a young white male in the corner. He must have been around my age.

"So, you were peeking down my shirt." I began.

"I-"

"It's fine, it's not like you haven't seen it before. Besides, that was my fault."

He stared at me and I smiled easily. He was always so afraid that I was going to get mad at him for those kinds of things. It wasn't his fault both those times.

"Hey!"

I glanced back at the white kid who shouted. He seemed angry so I figured he was waiting for the waitress to come so he could complain.

I rolled my eyes. Everything was always the waitress's fault apparently. Because, you know, they don't have other customers or even other work to do.

"Hey, you!" The white kid shouted again.

He was staring straight at me.

I frowned and Altaïr knitted his eyebrows.

"What is wrong?" He questioned.

"Don't look behind you, just keep ignoring him." I glared at the kid before returning to my food.

The white kid stood up and approached our table. When he made it, he slammed his hands down on it, making the loudest bang I have ever heard.

I jumped but glared at the kid, who was glaring straight at Altaïr.

"We don't want your kind here," the kid warned.

"Hey, leave him alone," I growled.

The kid turned to me. "You're just gonna let this terrorist walk around? How can you stand eating with it?"

I stood up. "Walk away."

The kid ignored me as he threw racist insults at Altaïr, who stated blankly at the boy.

"I'm talking to you!" The kid pushed Altaïr's food off the table.

I pushed the kid. "Get your racist ass away."

"You need to take this outside," The waitress shuddered.

"Don't touch me, woman!" The kid pushed me back.

I stumbled but quickly righted myself. Altaïr was standing, glaring down at the kid who only came up to his chest.

"Don't touch her," Altaïr sneered.

"Get out of my country!" The kid didn't touch Altaïr but I know he wanted to.

"Get out of my diner!" The waitress yelled. "Before I call the cops!"

The white kid growled at Altaïr before returning to his table, slamming money down, and stalking out the door.

I sat back down but Altaïr came and sat next to me.

"Are you alright?" He asked.

"I should be asking how you are. It's not everyday you encounter a racist with the nerve to shout it out loud."

"What was he mad about? We were just sitting here?"

The waitress walked back over with a fresh plate of food. "Here, hon. Since you couldn't finish the other one, there's no extra charge."

I thanked her as she picked up the plate off the floor and walked away.

"That man was upset because you have the wrong skin color," I spoke harshly. "It's the most ridiculous thing."

"But he called me 'terrorist?'"

"That's because people like him believe that all the people with your skin color are people who attack others. In reality, there are more people like him that are worse."

Altaïr looked confused.

"It's ridiculous and uncalled for, and most importantly: it's wrong. Don't let anyone treat you like shit just because you don't look like them, do you understand?" I wanted to clear this.

He nodded.

We were walking out of the building after dropping off my book when it happened.

I had just laughed whip Altaïr held my belt loop. He hadn't let go since we exited the diner. Then it happened.

"Remember me?"

I had turned to see a flash and then we were pushed down an alley.

I remembered having Altaïr ripped from my grasp as I was forced up against a wall, my Dave turned to the side so I could kind of see what was behind me.

All of this reminded me of that time when I was in the market before I got roughed up in an alley.

And now here we were.

I could hear the voice of the kid from the diner swearing at Altaïr. It seems as if the kid had come back with friends.

"Leave him alone you cowards!" I snapped.

I could hear Altaïr with every hit he took but I couldn't see him and it was giving me severe anxiety. I could feel a panic coming on, and my hand started shaking uncontrollably.

"Shut the fuck up," the man holding me warned. He tightened his grip on my shaking hand and pushed me further into the wall so that it was hard to breathe.

I kicked my foot out and knocked the man's foot back. This loosened his grip enough where I could turn around and punch him in the face. Unfortunately, I was quickly subdued by one of the men holding Altaïr, who began to fight back when he saw me getting pinned against the wall again.

Things never seemed to go our way and it was really starting to piss me the fuck off.

"Let him go!" I cried as they punched him in the face again.

His nose started to bleed but he did not let off the glare. Altaïr looked as if he could take on the fucking world.

"Shut the fuck up, bitch!" The white kid approached me and slapped me across the face.

"Leave her alone!" Altaïr struggled against the men's grasp.

The kid turned to Altaïr and pulled a gun from his waistband. He pointed it straight at my Assassin and sneered at him.

"Beg for mercy," the kid commanded.

Altaïr stared at him, then the gun, and then looked to me. He didn't answer the kid and didn't even look at him when the kid cocked it.

"I won't repeat myself."

I lashed out and broke out of the grasp the men had on me and rushed over to stand in front of Altaïr.

"Put the gun down!" I growled. "Why are you doing this?"

"I want to keep America and her values safe. This man threatens that with his terrorism!" The kid sneered. "Now get out of the fucking way or I'll kill you too."

"He's not a fucking terrorist! What has he done? Hmm? Have lunch with me? Oh boy, suddenly he's a terrorist!"

"Shut up! You don't know who he is, what he's done. He'll turn out just like them, and I'm here to make sure he doesn't."

"Stop," I begged. "Don't do this. Please, he's my best friend."

"You'll thank me when the kids he's about to kill are alive." The kid sniffled and pulled the trigger.

A force pushed me out of the way and I had the wind knocked out of me as I fell on the hard cement. I looked up.

"Altaïr!" I cried out, watching him topple backwards from the force of the bullet.

I ran towards him and fell to my knees beside Altaïr, my breathing erratic. He needed to be okay. He has to be okay.

"No, no, no, no!" I felt tears slipping down my face as I pressed my hands against the bullet wound, stopping the blood flow as much as I could. I turned to face the kid and his friends. "Are you happy? You've shot an innocent man!"

"I've shot a terrorist." The kid crossed his arms, smiling smugly.

I stood up, rage fueling me. I approached the men and counted them in my head. I would save the kid for last.

There were four others. Five total. I could kick all their asses with one hand tied behind my back.

Police sirens were heard in the distance, yet close by. I suppose a patrol car was doing their daily rounds when they heard the gunshot.

"Fuck, get outta here boys!" The kid shouted and the men started running.

I grabbed the kid by his collar and punched him. Hard. He fell to the ground, clutching his jaw. I wasn't sure if it was broken, but my hand hurt like hell.

"Bitch!" He screamed through gritted teeth. He stood up and moved to punch me but I blocked him easily, retaliating with my good fist to his stomach.

He keeled over, throwing up from the force that I hit him with. When he finished throwing up, I kneed him in the nose and flipped him over my shoulder, sending him to the ground and disoriented.

He didn't seem like he was getting up again so I ran back to Altaïr's side, replacing my hands over his gunshot wound.

"Why did you do it, you asshole?" I whispered, letting the tears fall down my face.

"Keira," he choked out grabbing onto my wrist weakly.

His hand moved back to his side and that's when I noticed that my left hand hurt like hell whenever I moved it, and I was sure I had sprained it, if not broken it. What scared me most was when I realized Altaïr wasn't breathing.

"Altaïr? Please, no don't leave me!" I cried, placing my hands over his face. I began CPR while the sirens came closer.

"Don't leave, please!"

"Ma'am, what happened here?"

"You can't leave me! Not like how I left you!"

"We have a GSW, man not responding to CPR. We need an ambulance stat."

"Please!"

"Sir, you have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used. . ."

"Altaïr, I love you."


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Here's the next chapter. I'm afraid with all the work I've been doing, I haven't gotten a lot of the chapters written so it will take me a while to upload. Thank you so much for the review: ice queen 1378!**

Chapter 7

It had been hours. I was sitting in the waiting room, granted I was now with Grandma Joel, but I couldn't catch my breath.

I had taken the ambulance over with the EMTs and Altaïr, and the police had already questioned me about what happened when I got to the hospital. I told them everything I knew, but it wasn't much to go on until the white kid started talking. Which probably wouldn't happen.

I stared at the blood on my hands. Altaïr's blood. He had pushed me out of the way. He saved me and I barely kept him alive. The guilt that it should have been my blood racked my whole body and I couldn't stop shaking. God, just the thought of it being his blood made me nauseated.

Altaïr had responded well in the ambulance, and I had finally gotten him to breathe, but he was still in critical condition. I also hadn't let the EMTs check me out until after he was stable, and then I found out that I had sprained my wrist, so they put it in a cast.

It sucked because I was left handed, but I could learn to deal. All I wanted right now was to be able to see Altaïr. My Assassin.

Grandma Joel was saying something, but all the words were piled together until it sounded like a continuous stream of noise.

"Keira Lee."

I shot to my feet and nearly ran over to the doctor, leaving Grandma Joel behind. "How is he?" I asked before the doctor even opened his mouth.

"He's stable. He is lucky, the bullet missed his heart and didn't particularly puncture any vital organs. His lung collapsed but we got it all patched up, he should do well once that's fully healed. For now, however, I need to keep him for at least a week in order to see how he fairs. He's not on any kind of breathing tube, the strong man, but he does of a bit of difficulty. We have a tap to get rid of the fluid in his lungs. If he seems to get winded too quickly, let him stop talking and help him regulate his breathing. If that doesn't work, come get a nurse quickly."

"So we can see him?" Grandma Joel asked.

The doctor nodded. "It might make him calm down. He's been asking about you non-stop since he's woken from surgery. He wants to know if you were okay," he said and looked at me. "Follow me."

Grandma Joel and I followed the doctor. He was going too slow for my taste but I understood that he wasn't in as much of a hurry as I was.

As soon as we made it to the room, the doctor asked me to wait outside.

"Grandma, what if he isn't okay?" I asked in a hushed tone.

"You idiot, he's fine. That man would live just because you told him to. He does everything you ask him, so I'm sure he knows you want him to be fine," Grandma Joel said, chuckling.

I frowned. "What if he doesn't want to see me? It was my fault."

"Get your head outta your ass! That man could never hate you! He's too starry-eyed for that."

She didn't know about when he couldn't stand the sight of me. When he was conflicted because I was the ancestor of Robert de Sable.

"Come on in." The doctor's voice was loud enough for me to hear.

I shuffled in hesitantly, unsure if he really wanted me there. Grandma Joel was the one who practically shoved me into the room.

The sight of Altaïr in the hospital bed was funny in a strange way. This was just another reminder that I was delirious and he was a man out of time.

"Keira!" Altaïr wheezed, looking like he wanted to sir all the way up upon my arrival.

It took everything in me to not run and envelop him in a tight hug. "How are you feeling?" I asked instead and stood next to his bed.

Grandma Joel sat in the only chair there and smiled to Altaïr when he gave her a nod of recognition.

"Hurts." He winced at the own weakness of his voice.

"God, I am so sorry. This is my fault." I bowed my head, ready to cry again.

"No!" He protested.

"Altaïr, if I had been more careful and more observant, that guy wouldn't have returned. And even then, you pushed _me_ out of the way. It's because of me that you got shot."

"Keira-"

"Do you understand that I can't lose you? You're everything keeping me sane in a world where I feel out of place. After what we went through, I feel like I belong back there, not here. You're kind, funny when you want to be, and you put up with my nonsensical ramblings. You know more about me than my own family. God, Altaïr you mean too much to me that I can't lose you."

I stared at him, horrified that I had basically confessed my feelings to him.

He just stared at me funny, his eyes searching my face and part of me thought he was looking for a lie in what I said. The other part of me ignored that part and stared back unashamedly.

He opened his mouth when the doctor entered the room, interrupting anything Altaïr might have said.

"Visiting hours are over. Mr. Altaïr needs to get his rest." The doctor announced, leaving no room for an argument as Grandma Joel and I were ushered out.

I looked back at Altaïr to see him staring dejectedly at his hands in his lap. Then I was out in the hallway.

"You can come back tomorrow. However, I would like to look you over for anymore injuries, Ms. Lee. Does that sound reasonable?" The doctor asked.

I nodded and followed the doctor, leaving Grandma Joel to follow along at her slow pace.

"Could you actually wait in the waiting room, ma'am?" The doctor requested.

Grandma Joel huffed but consented. She walked away and I was left with the quite attractive doctor.

We stepped into a new, empty room and the doctor pointed at the bed. When I sat, I realized how tired I was.

"Let's get your hands all cleaned off, Ms. Lee." The doctor pulled up a chair and sat in front of me while he wiped the blood off my hands with a wet towel. He scrutinized the brace over my wrist and hand and tutted, readjusting it.

It felt better.

"Your knuckles didn't get patched up?" He ground his teeth. "Whoever looked you over first did a terrible job of it."

"I didn't really give them the choice to do a better job."

The doctor peered up at me. "What is Altaïr to you?"

I frowned but figured he was only asking because he knew we weren't family. "He's my best friend. You never told me your name, by the way."

"Ah, my apologies. It's been a long night. My name is Doctor Matthew Addelmyer." The doctor, Dr. Addelmyer, patched up my knuckles quickly.

He finished patching me up and looking me over. Apparently, there was a bruise beginning to form on my face and I should ice it. Otherwise, I was good to go.

I found myself laughing at one of Dr. Addelmyer's jokes as he escorted me back to the waiting room where Grandma Joel finished writing up some things for the hospital.

"Thank you, Doctor." I smiled.

"Please, call me Matthew."

I shook my head slightly. "Matthew."

With that, I rejoined Grandma Joel and we left. A part of me wanted to stay in the waiting room until I could see Altaïr again, but I knew better. I was lovesick for a man who did not love.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

It had been a while. I didn't know how long because the days seemed to drone on and on without Altaïr there.

Matthew had contacted me and told me that Altaïr was ready (and arguing) to go home.

Grandma Joel pulled out her trusty orange truck and drove me to the hospital. She didn't like to drive because of the traffic, but she said she would make an exception.

"I like him, by the way." Grandma Joel pulled into the hospital parking lot.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"I know how much you care for him. If you two ever decided to date, you have my approval," she specified.

"He doesn't like me like that," I answered quickly.

Grandma Joel laughed. "He's as in love with you as you are with him! A blind man could see what you can't!"

"He told me he wasn't."

Grandma Joel rolled her eyes. "Go get him, I'll go through the checking out process."

We exited the vehicle and proceeded into the building. True to her word, Grandma Joel began the paperwork as a nurse led me back into Altaïr's room.

When I saw him, he stopped fighting the nurse and stared at me with the biggest smile on his face.

"Keira, I had Jell-O!" He beamed.

I laughed. I was slightly disappointed that he wasn't just smiling at me because I was here. "Did you like it?"

He nodded and flinched away from the nurse once more.

"Maybe you can get him to stay still," the nurse told me. "We had to practically strap him down when we took the tap out of his lung."

I nodded and stood next to Altaïr, placing my hand on his shoulder. That sounded like my Assassin all right.

"Altaïr, look at me," I said, directing his attention away from the nurses and to me. "Don't focus on anything other than me."

He still was smiling as he looked at me, focusing exactly how I told him to. I smiled back at him and I lost focus staring into his amber eyes, admiring the gold flecks in them.

"All done. He can go now," the nurse announced. "Have a good day, Mr. Altaïr."

The spell was broken. We both looked away once the nurse had spoken, and I stepped back, my hand slipping from Altaïr's shoulder.

"Let's get out of here." I offered my hand to Altaïr, slightly surprised when he took it.

We held hands as we exited the hospital and things felt good.

At home, Grandma Joel left to go on another date with Gus. That left me and Altaïr alone, and I was practically avoiding talking to him because I was afraid of what would come out of my mouth. What I said to him that one time when he was admitted in the hospital hadn't come up again, but I was afraid it would now that a parental chaperone was gone.

Currently, I was in the kitchen making dinner and jamming out to some music, singing along and such. Basically, I was making a great fool out of myself but it didn't matter since Altaïr was in the living room watching television.

I slipped the casserole dish into the oven and pressed start, dancing away from the kitchen appliance. I spun and opened the refrigerator, sliding the juice and chilled coffee out of it before sliding across the wooden floor and placing them on the table.

I heard laughing and I turned to see Altaïr standing in the entryway to the kitchen, his arm in a sling strapped across his chest.

"What are you laughing at?" I laughed.

"You look so happy," he observed, strolling into the kitchen.

I shrugged. "I am. I'm just glad you're back and okay."

"Me also."

I turned down the music so I didn't have to talk loudly. "Hey, I just remembered something."

"What's that, Keira?"

"What does 'habibata' mean?"

He froze. "Where did you hear that?"

"You. I was half-asleep when you called me that."

He waited a few beats before answering. "It's nothing. It means 'smelly friend.'"

I laughed. "Should I then call you habibata?"

He paused in his laugh and a sad expression flashed over his face before it was gone. "No, I am afraid you are the smelly friend."

I turned up the volume to the music and held out my hand. "Dance with me."

He looked at his arm in the sling. "I am afraid I would not make a good dancer at the moment."

I laughed. "Do you remember me at the Merchant King's party? I wasn't good dancing then, and I certainly didn't improve. Come on, you can't do any worse than me."

He laughed at the memory. "I remember that."

Despite his earlier protest, he came to dance with me. He basically swayed back and forth, off beat, while I did most of the dancing. It was good.

Then a slow song came on.

"Here, put your arm around my waist." I directed his good arm to my hips. Then I put my arms around his neck.

"This is very close," he commented.

"That's the whole purpose of slow songs. So you and your partner can be close and take a break from all the high-energy dances."

We swayed back and forth for a little while, listening to the song. Though we were silent, I could feel every movement Altaïr made, and the slight changes in his breathing. The warmth from his body radiated off and seeped into my bones.

The song ended too early.

We looked at each other and the whole atmosphere around us changed. It seemed different, and I couldn't tell exactly what happened, but I liked it.

He licked his lips and stared intently at me. "Keira."

"Yes?" I whispered.

"When is your grandmother coming back?"

"I'm not sure."

We didn't notice the music change from slow to very fast paced. We continued our slow dance, completely oblivious to the outside world.

"I can't take this anymore," He spoke, breaking the silence.

I frowned. "Altaïr, what do you-"

His hand forced my chin up so I looked up to him and then his lips met mine.

God, this was better than I remembered.

Our mouths moved together, tasting each other. I pulled back to get some air and he moved in for more.

He was so warm and I could feel myself reacting to his touches.

He pulled back, placing his forehead on mine as we both drew in air.

"I thought you didn't like me like that?" I spoke quietly.

"Do you want to talk about what you said to me in the hospital," he asked, evading the question.

"What are you talking about?" I countered.

"When you were arguing with me that It was your fault you got shot."

My heartbeat quickened. "No I don't necessarily want to talk about that."

"Okay. Can you answer something for me?"

"Sure."

"Do you love me?"

My whole body froze. "Y-yes of course, you're my friend."

"No, not like that."

I sighed. "Where do you get this idea?"

"I'm sure you said you loved me when I was shot."

He hadn't been breathing when I said that. How could he have heard that.

"Tell me what 'habibata' really means and I'll answer that."

"It means 'my love.'"

Jesus Christ.

I reached up and pulled his head down, our lips attaching roughly from the force I pulled his head down.

I felt him freeze, and then relax, deepening the kiss.

I pulled back. "I do love you."

"I also."

"You have to say it."

"I love you too."

I shivered and kissed him again.

Our kissing slowly got more intense when I bit him lightly on the lip. He had moaned in response and pulled me closer to him.

He hissed in pain and pulled away, the arm around my waist going to his shoulder.

"Oh, fuck, I'm sorry!" I quickly spewed out as I tried catching my breath.

"That was my own fault." Altaïr reassured me.

We stood in the kitchen catching our breath, staring anywhere but each other.

"I'm back, kiddos!" Grandma Joel strolled into the kitchen. "What's up with the loud music?"

"I was making dinner," I explained, pointing to the oven which showed that the casserole still had five minutes.

"Oh nice! Anyways," she sniffed, "I'm just coming back for one thing and then I'm going out to eat with Gus. I'll let you know when I'll be back."

"Be back before midnight, Grandma," I warned. "And if you'll be late, text me."

"Yeah, yeah." Grandma Joel waved her hand impatiently. "I'll let you know."

"Be safe!" I called to her as she left the house, the door slamming shut behind her. "That woman is going to get herself into trouble."

Altaïr laughed. "You worry too much about her. Let her go out, have some fun."

"I worry about the people I care about."

"You worry about me?"

"I always did."

He pursed his lips as he let his eyes wander my face. Whatever he was looking for was interrupted when the oven went off, signaling that the casserole was finished.

I moved around him and got it out of the oven, placing it on the stove and turning the fan on above it to help cool it down.

"Things aren't going to get weird between us, right? Not again?" I asked without turning around.

Altaïr made a noise. "I hope not."

I nodded and pulled out a spatula from the kitchen drawer next to the stove. "Could you grab some plates from the cupboard above the counter there?" I pointed behind me.

The domesticity of it all made me feel strange. Like this was a dream. Everything was wrong and yet everything had been going right, pushing me and Altaïr closer and closer together in new ways.

I was broken out of my musings when a plate appeared in front of me, Altaïr holding it. I filled both plates up and we stood in the kitchen as we ate, just talking about nothing, avoiding mentioning anything that will happen between us. It wasn't a good time to bring it up, and talking about it would make it strangely real for me. I wanted to keep it feeling this way for as long as I could.


End file.
